


Rulebreaker

by orphan_account



Category: Dangan Ronpa, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: M/M, Trans Character, dfab Komaeda, this is fucked up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-23
Updated: 2015-03-30
Packaged: 2018-03-19 07:26:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3601419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Komaeda offers to Hanamura that if he'll stop harrassing the others on the island, he can use him as he likes.  However, once Hanamura starts, things quickly spiral out of control and Komaeda finds himself full of misery.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"Teruteru Hanamura..." Komaeda sighed, shaking his head as he leaned against the wall by the window.  The guy in question stood near the door, confused and intrigued as to why he'd been called there.  It was before the party would be happening, before it was planned at all.  The shorter fellow was entirely unaware as to the hell that would be coming, under a delusion that Togami would prevent any murder from happening.  The curtain had not yet been lifted, and Komaeda still seemed entirely like a mild-mannered and friendly person.

 

"Yeah, that's me.  What's going on?" He asked, and Komaeda pushed off of the wall, standing up straight.  If he wasn't such a kind person, Hanamura might have been intimidated; as it was, the only emotion he was spurred to was confusion.

 

"I have to say, as much as I admire you, I find some of your habits a bit... disgusting." His crooked smile didn't exactly compliment these words, and despite Hanamura's perspective that Komaeda was friendly and harmless, the combination sent a shiver through him.  He had briefly been confident in his chances at survival, but that one smile filled him up with dread.

 

"So... what, are you gonna kill me?" He took a step backward, hand on the doorknob to flee if need be.  Luckily for him, the key was only necessary to unlock the door from the outside.  The interior was just one of those push-to-lock things.  If he had to bolt, he easily could.

 

"Kill you?  Oh, no.  Definitely not.  After all, I wouldn't have anything at all to gain from that." He shrugged, that smile of his turning warm and welcoming again.

 

"Yes you would... you could get out of here..." He ventured cautiously, looking Komaeda over.  The guy who'd once seemed simply friendly was clearly revealing himself as a wildcard.

 

"But why would I want to do that anyway?" Komaeda spoke, sounding harmless, "If I left, you'd all die... and you're all so much better than me.  Even if I did kill somebody, I'd let myself get caught when it came down to it.  I just want to see you all succeed."

 

"So why am I here, if you're not going to kill me?" 

 

"Well like I said, I don't like some of your habits.  Plotting to accost Pekoyama, attempting to trick Sonia into giving you a blowjob... honestly, it's detestable.  But I don't want to kill you for it." Komaeda sighed again, this time somewhat sadly, as he spread his arms openly, "So I'm going to give you an outlet for that behavior.  As much as it pains me to say this... use me as you will."

 

"...What?"

 

"If it will make you leave the others alone, I'm willing to sacrifice my own decency.  Fuck my mouth, fuck my ass.  However you might partake in fetishes in this environment, you can.  I'm simply trash, so it doesn't matter if you harm me."  He pushed his hair back with one hand, his face no longer smiling.  His mouth rarely turned downward, however.  With this sentence he appeared entirely blank.  If Hanamura was more observant, he might have noticed something in the boy's eyes.  Komaeda looked vaguely... dead inside.

 

But of course Hanamura wouldn't notice, even if he would care to try usually, he was far too distracted.  The minute his confusion ebbed, lust took its place.  He was actually salivating at the thought, the sort of reaction that would generally freak people out and cause them to leave him blue-balled.  This was different, though.  Komaeda was basically offering to be a living sex toy, and Hanamura was definitely not about to turn that down.

 

There were plenty of moments when something different could have occurred.  Komaeda could have backed out, like he so desperately wanted to (but if he brought this despair upon himself, surely his luck would come around?) or Hanamura could have cared about the look in his eyes (numb? fearful? nothing good.)  but none of that happened.  

 

Komaeda could at least be grateful for the fact that for now, Hanamura wasn't interested in anything kinky (particularly bondage, he didn't know if he could handle that) because he'd been trying for so long to get any sex at all that he'd definitely be satisfied, at least for now, with something fairly vanilla.

 

At least, that was how it was supposed to go.  That was how he said it would go, and that was how it was going to go until it didn't.  Until Hanamura was straddling Komaeda, right there on Super High School Level "Good Luck"'s bed, and he pulled off his shirt.  The surprise on the cook's face immediately turned to intrigue when Komaeda's loss of a shirt led not to his bare chest, but to...

 

"Oh, what's this?"  He chuckled, running his hands over that thing, "Is this... a binder?"  No answer needed, the look on Komaeda's face confirmed this.  "Man, I never woulda guessed.  You pass so well." Hanamura chuckled, "This changes things a bit..."

 

His face took on the closest expression he'd ever get to panic, "No.  You can't do that.  You can do anything else, except that."

 

"Yeah?" He raised his eyebrows, grabbing onto Komaeda's wrists, "And what makes you think I'm the kind of person to listen to you anyhow, especially now that I've got you in such a compromising position?" The cook's density worked to his advantage in this situation, weight keeping Komaeda from being able to shake him off.

 

"I-I told you what you could do and... I said you could even be kinky if you wanted to.  You owe me some good faith on the matter..." He hissed as Hanamura removed the apron he was wearing, using the strings from it to tie a knot around his hands.

 

"I don't owe you anything.  The exchange was that I'd leave the others alone, and I will.  You said I could do what I wanted with you."

 

"You can.  You can do whatever you want, except that." He measured out his words, trying to convey just how serious he was.

 

"Too bad." With Komaeda tied up well enough (and his internal panic levels off the charts) Hanumura continued to undress.

 

"I-I'll kill you!" It wasn't helping him that this shout cracked his voice into a higher range, into a voice that he hated.

 

"You already said you wouldn't kill me." Now fully undressed, he unbuttoned the other guy's pants.

 

"That was before this.  A-and if I can't kill you I'll get you killed.  I can do it.  I lived with a serial killer once, I've seen a lot of torture." Even mentioning that time, especially in this situation, made him cringe.  But he was already plotting Hanamura's downfall.  A death would let the others' hope shine, anyway.  And if he could get revenge in the process, even if he had to die to do it, well...

 

That'd be pretty satisfactory.

 

His planning, however, was cut short by misery.  It was generally difficult to commit to any sort of high level thinking while getting fucked, regardless of the enjoyment level.  Which, in this case, was somewhere in negative numbers.

 

"Hey come on, answer my question!" Komaeda had apparently missed the first time Hanamura had asked a question.  His assailant didn't honestly expect a victim to listen intently to every word, did he?  If Komaeda's luck was more perpetual he would have been able to outright tune the situation out completely, but as it stood he counted every second of disassociation as a blessing.  "Did you even hear me?  I asked, why are you not a virgin if you're just so appalled to get fucked here?" 

 

He couldn't muster up an intelligent reply to that, not like Hanamura would care anyway.  What would a man like him care to hear that Komaeda hadn't wanted to do it that time, either?  He wouldn't.  And with each thrust from the stout creep Komaeda was filled with pain, so all he could say was, "Fuck you!"

 

"Aren't I already doing that?" Despite the comment not making much sense, it still caused him to wince.  Two things kept him from the most despair he could be feeling; his mouth was free, and the binder still on.  That was it.  Hanamura was absolutely terrible at this, each thrust clumsy and not the least bit pleasurable.  That wouldn't make his base misery any less, but it'd be a bit of a consolation.  Just a bit.  As it stood, this was entirely awful.

 

Silence didn't help.  As much as he tried, Komaeda was unable to tune out again, fully mentally present.  His eyes were closed, and his face turned away.  He was attempting to ignore it, but he couldn't, especially in the "silence".  He could hear each weak breath he made himself, and each disgusting noise from the man on top of him.  Grunts, moans, heavy breathing... the sound of flesh.  It made him want to vomit, but hell if he'd do that in front of Hanamura.  If nothing else, he didn't want to give him the satisfaction of knowing /just how/ miserable he was making Komaeda.

 

There was one more thing he could be thankful for.  Hanamura's inexperience led to the misery being done and over with quickly enough, and though Komaeda was filled with dread at the feeling of the other releasing inside of him, he also felt relieved soon after when Hanamura stood to leave rather than continue on.

 

"Y'know, Komaeda.  You're the cutest girl on this island." Before he could get up the energy to retort, the door shut, and all purpose in saying anything back was gone.

"...I'm not a fucking girl." The manner of it being purposeless, of course, did not stop Komaeda from saying it, if only to reassure himself that being used in this way didn't make him any less male.

With his assailant gone, he finally opened his eyes again. The room, at least from this angle, didn't look any different. Nobody would have ever guessed that anything out of the ordinary had happened in here. Even once he sat up, the only evidence of anything gone awry was the bed; but oh, what evidence that was.

When he saw the mess that Hanamura had left, he felt bile rising in his throat again, and this time he couldn't stop it. He threw up. The only effort he even made regarding it was being sure it all landed on the bedsheets. He could get those washed. He could make it seem as if nothing had happened. He could ignore it. Just like he always did. Something good would come of it, right? After all. Something always did.

He wiped his thighs with another part of the sheets, then grabbed his clothes from off the floor and made his way to the bathroom. Once there, he pulled off the binder and got into the shower. Then he turned it on. The brief flow of cold water before it warmed up always helped to snap him back to his senses, strange as his senses may be. Well, he guessed that now had a 99% success rate, because it did nothing for him this time. Normally, he'd feel like himself again after any tragedy if he did this. But of course, if any time was to be the exception, it didn't surprise him that it was this one.

After all, this was his classmate. A symbol of hope, yeah. That's what he was supposed to be, right? Right. Super High School Level... Cook. More like bastard. But he couldn't let those thoughts thrive. He couldn't be allowed to doubt in the hope within his classmates, all of whom were so much better than him anyway...

As he washed away the stains and washed away the misery, he had to also wash away any thoughts that these people weren't as great as he thought them to be. This had to have been a fluke, right? It had to be. It absolutely had to be. There's no way anybody who got into Hope's Peak Academy was actually that terrible, but...

It had happened. For anyone else, that should be proof enough, but... he wanted to believe that it wasn't the case. He wanted to believe in them. Super High School Level Students.

There was something broken in him now. Something was always broken, but it was worse now. He didn't even know how he felt, how he was supposed to feel. How others would expect him to feel, how he would usually expect himself to feel.

He stayed in the shower until it turned over to night time and the water shut off automatically. He managed to get out of the shower, and get dressed. He balled up the mess of bedsheets, and wandered out to put them in the laundry. He was glad not to see anybody, because he didn't know what he'd say. After picking up some new bedding from the supermarket, he went straight back to his room and somehow managed to sleep despite the terrible smells still everywhere.

He would leave a note for Togami, saying that the first murder would occur. He would trust his luck to be the one cleaning the lodge. Hanamura would be able to tell there was something different about him when he spoke of murder. Because there was something different about him. He would set up a murder, and he very much expected to be the victim.

He was sure that the shining hope of all his other, better peers would far outmatch that of Hanamura. It surprised him when he wasn't the dead one after all, but it opened up opportunities. Was that his luck compensating him for the hell he'd gone through?

If so, maybe it was time for him to stop trusting his luck so much.

He just couldn't help but make the trial more interesting, of course. If he didn't trust in the hope and skills of his friends so much, his actions might have let that disgusting bastard go free. He did trust them, though. Their genius would be so much more brilliant if they were challenged a bit more, and that still made him happy. Watching success could make him forget his own failures. Watching hope could ease his own despair. After all, hope was... ever so much stronger.

He couldn't deny that he was smiling when Hanamura was killed, and in such a gruesome way. They'd think him a nutjob... but they already did, anyway. And what should he care what they thought of him, when he was trash compared to all of them?

His name was Nagito Komaeda. He was the guy who could tell stories of his tragic past with a smile on his face. The guy who never frowned, the guy who trusted his good luck to alleviate his shitty life. He was the guy who was destroyed by somebody he idolized, and yet never faltered from a collected madness.

At least, never when others could see.


	2. Chapter 2

A lot of things changed for Nagito Komaeda.

Following the execution of Teruteru Hanamura, some of his brilliant classmates decided that he was too dangerous, and should be, wouldn’t you know it, tied up. He was very much angered and upset by this development, considering just how much he absolutely hated being tied up. Luckily, at least, the chink in the armor of the symbols of hope had already been done away with, so he wasn’t in any danger.

Well, at least he thought that. And as luck would have it, he was right. He had no issues, and was released in time to investigate the next murder. And of course, mess with the trial. This time, he truly wouldn’t have minded if he threw them off enough for the culprit to get out alive. Whichever outcome represented more hope.

Then, he got the Despair Fever. Thanks to his preexisting conditions, that very nearly killed him. But again, he recovered in time to investigate. In time to watch hope prevail.

Things changed while he was investigating the fourth murder. That was when it really happened. He should have just listened to Monomi, used one bullet. Prevailing with a ⅙ chance of success… it gave him a prize that he never really wanted in the first place. He got the full Hope’s Peak Academy profiles… and promptly wished that he hadn’t.

When he read what was contained in that file, his entire world came crashing down around him. The symbols of hope that he so idolized… all of them, and himself too… they weren’t symbols of hope after all. They were… Super High School Level Despair. They were no better than him after all… every one of them was trash. Everybody, just as worthless as him. This discovery clicked several things into place. For one thing, he had hardly been watching hope all along. For another, Teruteru Hanamura’s actions were no longer as surprising. Of course somebody who was considered a being of despair would commit such a terrible crime.

His behavior, as well, had promptly changed. They were no longer any better than him at all. He could treat them however he wished, he could speak with confidence during the investigation. Superiority, even. But that wasn't all, no. He now knew how much none of them, including himself, deserved to live. So he took the poison from the octagon. Surely, he'd figure out a use for it.

Maybe he’d just release it in the restaurant. Let them all die. Each and everyone one of them, everyone that was left. From himself to talentless Hinata over there. What a profile his was. Reserve department turned… Super High School Level Hope.

Of course. He was a fool to think he could ever aspire to be that. The title could only belong to the most talented being out there, couldn’t it? That clearly wasn’t him. His only talent was this fucking luck of his. He never doubted he had it, but…

He had since come to terms with the fact that luck never functioned as an equal exchange. His kidnapping, the lottery money, he couldn’t buy the trauma away. His illness, going to Hope’s Peak… what a fucking joke that was. And aside from getting to see the execution, if he took into consideration the files he found, nothing had even begun to make up for the misery he suffered at the hands of Hanamura. Getting to see hope triumph? Useless, isn’t it, if they’re all just despair anyway.

The thing that made the most pronounced change in him was that he lost faith in a certain sort of luck, after all. Luck never made equal compensation, it just made light of a terrible situation. He couldn’t trust it anymore. He could trust his luck when it came to odds; he could win Russian Roulette with five bullets, he could draw the straw he wanted, that was a clear ability that he would never lose… but he couldn’t rely on getting a positive outcome in the larger scale of things anymore. It was clear, that morning, that his luck had entirely run out in that respect.

He was alone in his room anyway. So it didn’t matter for him to keep up appearances. It made no sense to keep lying to himself at this point. Everything he’d ever cared about had crumbled down around him. He couldn’t reveal it to the others, but they weren’t here right now. They weren’t here. He could cry.

So he did. But why? If he was to cry at any point, only on that information, he could have easily done it when he was left to himself in the octagon. That wasn’t it, though. That was never it. The files brought him the knowledge that he hadn’t been compensated for his earlier misfortune after all. It told him that he’d been wrong this entire time. That was certainly something terrible, but it only built resentment in him. It didn’t hit his individual sensitivities.

But this did.

Monobear had made it quite clear that aside from the Despair Fever, illness just wouldn’t happen here. And the food wouldn’t be contaminated either. Neither of those things could be motive for a murder after all. As it stood, there was exactly one reason that could be the cause of his vomiting that morning, and hell. That freaked him out.

He could handle this sort of thing, though. Generally. Right? He always had before. He could always just pretend that nothing was wrong, but…

First he had to cry. This time. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d cried, if he ever had, but honestly he deserved to at least once. If he was to ever cry, this would certainly be the time to do it. It wasn’t like he’d get much chance to do it later, after all, and this was probably the most terrible thing to have happened to him yet. There was no way he was having that bastard’s child. No way in hell. That was entirely the reason he was now curled up on his bed with his face buried in a pillow.

“Komaeda…?” A soft voice broke through the general silence of his room. He thought he’d locked the door; oh well. He didn’t care much if she saw him anyway.

“Nanami? What are you doing here?” She was always different from the others, though he couldn’t quite pinpoint how. She wasn’t as rude to him, maybe. Everyone else, even Hinata and Owari… he wouldn’t want them to see him like this. But Nanami was okay. “I thought I’d locked the door…”

“You did.” She said matter-of-factly, stepping further into his cabin and closing the door behind herself, “But Monomi saw you through the window and let me in. She does have keys, after all. She said you looked like you needed somebody to talk to. Are you… crying? I’ve never seen you cry. Or even really frown for that matter. Something really bad must have happened.”

“What does it matter if I am? I’m worthless anyway, it doesn’t make a difference if I’m crying.” He sighed, lying back down.

“Well. I don’t think that you’re worthless.” She was quiet as she went to sit beside him, “I’m sorry if I’ve never told you that before. You are… you’re odd, yes, but you do help us in trials very much. And I can tell that you have a good heart. You deserve a bright future just as much as everybody else here.”

“What if nobody here deserves a bright future?” He questioned, his voice falling into that disturbingly lackluster pitch of his. She gently placed a hand on his shoulder, and he took a few deep breaths. Calming down.

“I’m sure that they do.” Nanami smiled softly, and he just nodded. He wouldn’t mention that they were all SHSL Despair. Including himself, who had aimed to be SHSL Hope. Including Hinata, who he had admired for so long. Including Owari, who had given him a chance. Including Nanami, who was consoling him now.

“Maybe. I don’t know. I don’t know anything anymore. Hanamura sure as hell didn’t deserve a bright future. Maybe none of us do.” He crossed his arms.

“...So that’s what this is about, is it?” She sounded more like she was talking to herself when she said that, before clearly directing her words to him, “Hope’s Peak… studies talent. Not character. There’s bound to be a few bad people. But… everyone left, everyone here certainly deserves to keep moving towards the future. Almost everyone who was here all along… good people can do bad things. Good people can commit murders. I love all of you very much.”

“Nanami…” His voice was almost a whisper.

“There’s something that I keep reminding the others of, but I think that maybe, maybe you need to hear it too. Especially right now. I promise you, everything will be okay.” She smiled right at him as she finished her statement, “Komaeda is a boy.”

He couldn’t say anything. He just nodded. So she knew. How she knew, he had no idea, but she did, and she had actually managed to comfort him. He watched as she left, and she gave him a few more parting words as she closed the door, “I encourage you to keep moving towards that bright future, Komaeda.”

And then it hit him.

Well, his compensatory luck had run out, hadn’t it? Without that on his side, he only had one option. Besides, he deserved it, and he couldn’t keep on like this anyway. He would not keep moving towards that bright future, because there was none out there for him. He had no option but to die… but where he had originally intended to take everybody with him, Nanami’s words reminded him of something. The Future Foundation traitor… the one person who wasn’t a member of SHSL Despair.

His plan immediately went from ‘kill everybody’ to ‘set the traitor free’. He had a feeling it was probably the girl who had just spoken to him, but he couldn’t rely on that feeling. He could, however, rely on the one form of luck that he definitely still had. So he set his plan into motion. Paranoia, confusion, everything leading up to the moment when he would trust fate to put his life into the hands of the one person who deserved to live.

He knew from the start that he would not survive. It was impossible, for one such as him. He meant to be a stepping stone for hope… and maybe this was his luck coming back to him in the end? If he had died earlier, it would have never helped hope, but this… the only hope among them was the traitor. And he would do everything he could to save them.

The only one who ever was and ever would be worthy.


End file.
